Connected To You
by Rianne
Summary: Taking Bones and Booth back to the beginning. A story about the events of Two Bodies in the Lab from Season 1
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Taken from the events and transcript of episode _'Two Bodies in the Lab_' season 1 ep 15.

**Author Notes:** I have recently fallen in love with this show. I'm currently only up to the second episode of season 2 so I have a long way to go (not complaining!) My guess is that this kind of story has been done before, but thank you for taking the time to try mine!

**Rating:** T - Mainly for description of crime scenes and the occasional mild bad word. Romance and a touch of angst the rest of the way, I promise!

**Connected To You.**

_By Rianne_

_Chapter One_

"You're dating online?"

Booth had hastily swiped his ID and climbed the steps to the platform as the others had been distracting her.

He looked the same as usual, long coat, suit, styled hair; he was followed by a man she recognised as another Agent.

But the forced incredulity of his expression and his tone were distinctly unimpressed and he made no attempt to hide it.

She did not need this.

Not Booth too.

A body lay before them, and this was what they all wanted to talk about?

Well she wanted to talk about the victim.

Her attention darted from discerning feature, to interesting anomaly.

These bones told many secrets.

Pelvis said male.

Evidence of bullet wounds, 38 calibre. But no bullets.

Adding to that the obvious: his cement shoes; that screamed murder.

The algae and breaks in the tibia spoke, as Hodgins had said, of this man having been fish food for quite a while.

Consistent with his being found in Chesapeake Bay.

Dr. Goodman had allowed that the FBI thought it was a mob boss.

One James Cugini, who had disappeared after a daughter's dance recital six years ago.

Also consistent.

A fascinating case.

The killer or killers were really quite good at committing a classic murder.

But she had no doubt she would find them.

And yet all of them, Angela, Hodgins, Zack, and this near stranger of an FBI agent, were now staring.

Their eyes darting from her to Booth.

Waiting to see how the latest in their ever growing line of disagreements was going to go down.

How many times had they all talked to her about spending time away from the Jeffersonian and having a life!

Countless.

So what were they so surprised about?

It was just a meal.

She had Googled him.

She was allowed to go out.

A fact she shouldn't have had to clarify.

She also should not have to clarify that it was with a man.

Coming around the table she tried to explain her actions with what she considered to be a well composed argument for online dating, although she did not know why she was bothering. These were smart people who knew their own minds, held fast to their beliefs and opinions.

"Well it's a practical way of objectively examining a potential partner without all the game play."

She heard the edge of the defensive enter her tone, despite the perfectly rational explanation and did not like it. Or the way she made herself taller, tilting her chin as she came around to face Booth, removing her gloves like she was preparing for battle, forcing them into the pocket of her lab coat, her preliminary examination of the bones complete.

She attempted to stare him down.

So still and focused that she could feel the draft from the residual sway of her ponytail.

"That comes later if it works out." Angela's voice appeared beside her and had that silky kick she could never seem to imitate. Her friend teased with ease, and the men responded. Like Pavlov's canines. Their eyes gleaming with primal imaginings.

Angela introduced herself to Booth's companion, smiling as she shook his hand. Before wondering aloud that Brennan had met Agent Kenton before, her tone spelling out that she, Brennan, had somehow been lax in forgetting to tell her all about the smart, attractive friend of Booth's who could be a distinct possibility for a very good date for her very good friend Angela. Angela liked to spell things out for her.

She broke the challenging eye contact with Booth to acknowledge his companion. Kenton, that was the name she had forgotten, or perhaps not really listened to in the first place and had dismissed as irrelevant. Booth was always nudging her about this, but she met far too many people in her line of work to waste time remembering names.

"Well, I was at the Bureau when Booth took his coffee cup." She announced dismissively, reasserting the eye-contact with Booth. She would win this.

"Apparently they're both the world's greatest FBI Agents." She tossed out. Understanding that there was humour in her statement, and feeling a little bit proud of that fact.

Booth broke the staring contest to laugh away the challenge to his professional standing, hell, to his manhood.

Victory made her gleam.

She turned back to the body, moving away from the new arrivals, biting back a retort as Booth introduced her highly educated, highly skilled, elite team as 'Brennan's Brain Trust.' It was too early to forfeit her recent victory.

"Your victim is over here."

"So what if your computer date's a psycho?" Booth's question followed after her.

Oh, he was not just going to let this go was he!

You know, he wasn't her father, or her brother, and he certainly wasn't her boyfriend.

She could look after herself thank you very much.

But he was still waiting for an answer.

Typical Booth, some days he reminded her of an insistent puppy. Always on her heels; trying to get her attention, getting all riled up.

"Only about a billion people date online." Angela stated drolly; attempting to diffuse the situation, which was good seen as how this whole idea and even the site she had used to meet David, had all been a part of Angela's grand design to find her a boyfriend. She would have to thank her later.

Honestly she had been enjoying the simplicity of it, this online dating, and the anonymity of just talking, as she had told Dr Goodman, the idea of cultivating intimacy and interests online was intriguing to her.

Yet, now she was going on a real life date with this stranger, talked into a situation she was more uncertain about.

She could view it as an experiment.

"Yeah, I have." Hodgins online dating surprised no one, nor did his attempt to support Angela. They were trying to help, but they were failing. They were just managing to confirm the stigma and enhance the stereotypes that the idea of dating online already had attached to it.

The thought that David could easily be someone like Hodgins crossed her mind and was quashed. No Hodgins was unique.

But as if Booth saw her distraction, he was quickly questioning her once more, in that odd kind of ritual sparring way they seemed to engage each other in lately.

Like a dog with a bone he pursued his point.

"You know, whatever happened to seeing someone across a crowded room, eyes meeting, that old black magic gets you in its spell…" Charm filled his words, curved out from his glinting smile.

And he was leaning on one of the microscopes, as if he had no care for how much that particular piece of equipment was worth.

Everything about his posture encouraged her to be provoked.

To challenge the schmaltzy well-oiled romance of his words.

Although she knew enough about him to catch the glimmer of true desire in his voice.

Booth believed in love at first sight.

Her heart rate did not just pick up.

It was merely a physiological response to frustration.

"There's no such thing as magic." Her voice was clear, rational even.

He was not going to suck her in right now.

Even if his eyes danced with flirtatious intent.

"Oh there's magic," he slowly intoned with a sultry smile. Eyebrows dancing.

She wanted to slug him.

To shove him hard.

Just to see him fall on that cocky ass of his.

That would provide her with the dual triumph of working out her frustration at his taunts and seeing that knowing sweetness vanish from his face.

He knew that he affected her.

Bastard.

But somehow she held back, she would not be flustered, the restraint completely against her nature and actually quite difficult to maintain as she found the impulse terribly tempting.

Maybe she needed a shake up too, one that would take away the sensations her own stomach fluttered with in response to Booth's well aimed sugar-coated barb.

Did she believe in love at first sight?

No.

But attraction, lust at first sight?

That was a different story.

Yeah, she needed to clear her thoughts; either that or she needed something physical that she really shouldn't be thinking about in the presence of a dead, unidentified human being.

Damn it was hard to be professional these days.

What was Booth doing to her Lab?

Obsessions with dates and personal lives.

They were here to solve very serious crimes.

And then she looked across the table and saw Kenton touching the victim without wearing a pair of gloves.

"Are you here for a reason?" she angrily asked Booth, unable to stop her voice rising with her annoyance, "because Kenton is _handling_ this." She gestured towards the agent.

The book she had read on good working relationships said that sarcasm was an issue for concern in communication, but she had no other outlet for her growing frustration available to her at the moment.

Kenton was now snapping pictures of the victim's cement shoes on his cell phone.

Just perfect.

Professionalism at its finest.

"We have some remains to look at." Booth told her, as if he was talking about what he'd ordered for lunch.

If he was stating the obvious, then she could do that too.

"I'm already looking at them." She responded, speaking slowly just in case.

"Nope, no, not the Cugini case. Kenton will babysit him. These are fresh." He was mimicking her tone.

"Well I was told that our friend in the cement shoes took precedence."

Hiding behind rules when you don't know what the hell is going on was always a reliable safe house.

"That was before we found someone tortured and ripped apart by dogs." He told her.

Her stomach twisted, but she did not let on.

She needed to prepare to distance herself for this one.

**000000**

The echoing howl of the dogs was ear splitting.

The air filled with the pungent smells of blood and fear and dust.

As they entered the crime scene Booth's skin grew green and her own stomach responded in kind.

She counted slowly as she approached.

Willing herself to drown out all the surrounding aural and visual triggers, to just focus on the bones.

Not the blood.

Not the haze of fear.

Or the taste of repulsion.

Or the question of how someone could do this to another human being.

Those were not questions for her.

Hers were age, sex, defining characteristics.

Ways to give this unfortunate soul back their name and identity.

The body was hung from a pipe and spread out on pallets.

Nothing left but scraps of tissue, clothing and bone, all violent red.

Her Dictaphone was a good distancing tool.

Her voice a calming guide beneath the roar around her.

Speaking aloud; only the facts.

"Ninety percent of the flesh is missing because of mutilation and post mortem anthropophagi caused by canine scavenging."

Booth could not look at the victim, he paced around the edges of the sacrificial rubbish heap the body was lain upon, and his eyes occasionally followed the howls of the dogs, then her motions instead.

She could see from the way his chest rose and fell that his breathing was sharp and forcibly controlled. Keeping down the horrors that she knew deeply affected him.

This was the most atrocious case she had assessed in a long time.

The atmosphere would undoubtedly haunt her dreams.

Zack stood behind her, photographing the scene in detail, his gaze flicking from the victim to watching the caged dogs with beady eyes. "They have to stay here?" He shouted over the din.

Booth cleared his voice before he spoke, his body's visceral reaction to the slaughter, tightening his throat. "We're waiting to see if you need them for anything."

"No, not now. Ask him to save the excrement for Hodgins." She told him.

"Let's get these dogs out of here," one of the officers shouted.

"Lucky Hodgins," Booth tried to joke, trying to break through the horror the only way he knew how.

The sounds of barking faded as the dog cages were wheeled away.

"What about the eyes?! He asked her, keeping his head low and his own eyes mostly averted.

An odd query.

It twigged in her mind that he was following a lead.

"Gone." She said, simply.

"Gouged out?" Came his next question.

A definite lead.

She moved behind the skull, shining her flashlight into the eye sockets.

"Yes," She sounded too surprised, but that was a definite clue, "you can see the scrapings in the orbital cavities much rougher then the knife scaring. It was done with a different weapon."

"Son-of-a-bitch!" Booth's response was one of near hatred.

Her eyes shot to him.

To the clear pain in his strained expression.

Anger at the killer? At himself? She didn't know, but his forehead furrowed, and his nostrils flared. His arms had come up around himself in an act of subconscious protection. He was staring at nothing, as if some other vision, some other scene was replaying itself across his mind's eye.

"You've seen this before." Her voice softened in realisation, she didn't need to say it, but she felt the need to say something, to show that she understood and to fill the tense silence now that the dogs had been removed and she could hear nothing beyond their ragged breathing.

"Yeah, two years ago we found a seventeen year old girl in a tool shed; bound, slashed, eyes gouged out, nothing for her parents to identify."

He worried her when he got like this. When his words tumbled out, fast, all together, when he lost control of his emotions. A freedom she found fearful in herself and even more fearful to be in the presence of another in this type of very human reaction.

She did not know how to respond, how to handle, how to calm and comfort. It unnerved her.

So she let him continue.

"Suspect was Kevin Hollings, everything pointed to him but couldn't get the hard evidence so the DA refused to prosecute. He's twisted, Bones," He twitched his fingers, agitated, touching his face, rubbing his nose. "It's like a game to him."

"He used dogs before?" She asked, almost dreading the answer as she continued to circle the body, taking in all the information she could about the way it was bound, laid out, posed.

"No, he's making the killings more elaborate. It's like he's testing us."

"Until he goes too far and he gets caught. Isn't that the expected pathology?" She asked him, turning to face him, surprising herself with her willingness to theorise things beyond what the bones told her.

It seemed the only way to reach out to Booth. To keep him talking. To keep him from disappearing further into himself.

"Yeah." He sounded far away, deep in thought.

"Well I can determine the kinds of weapons, time of death. Hodgins might find something useful in the dogs…"

There was a ringing.

Oh, that was her cell phone!

Her meal with David!

She sighed, annoyed at the distraction, as she crossed the room, tearing off one of her gloves, and scrambled for the offending item in her bag.

"Brennan?" She answered, always using her surname, a habit she had acquired from her work with Law Enforcement. "Just working." She told him shortly, after a pause.

What else would she be doing?

She daren't look at Booth, kept her back to him.

Behind her a faint thud caught her attention and she caught Booth's jerk in her peripheral vision.

She doubted he would have touched anything, he wasn't that stupid, or liable to be touching something that so repulsed him at the moment, and when she turned she saw she was correct.

A piece of the arm had collapsed, the bone falling unceremoniously to the cement floor of the warehouse.

"Bag that," she pointed, as she instructed Zack, who quickly obliged.

Booth had placed his hand over his mouth to restrain his gag-reflex.

"Yeah of course. I'm starving." She continued to David, even if it was a fairly obvious lie to those around her. She saw Booth balk at the thought of eating after this sight, from out of the corner of her eye and heard him physically clear his throat again. "Seven thirty, okay, yes. I'll meet you there. Okay. Bye." She hurried him off the phone.

"My reservation just got pushed by a few extra minutes." She told Booth, and ignored his suddenly sour face, putting on a fresh glove.

"Oh, a few extra minutes." He retorted, "Great."

He was practically tutting at her, "What?" She questioned, a little more harshly than she had intended to. Her frown was becoming so intense she was getting a headache.

What did he think?

That she didn't care as much about finding the abomination that did this as he did? Because how dare he, he could not be more wrong.

"Nothing."

So now he's being passive aggressive. Perfect. Whether she believed in psychology or not she certainly got a lesson in it each time she worked with Booth.

She could not understand how he could have formed such a dislike of someone he had never met. She hadn't observed this behaviour in him before.

"You disapprove?" She knew she should leave it alone, but she just couldn't help herself. He knew just how to press every button she had.

"I said great." He shot back.

"With attitude." She gave just as good as she got.

They were equals in that sense, if in nothing else.

"Don't go overboard with psychology. It's not your thing." He practically spat, snark in every syllable and she felt the rising anger tighten her spine.

Why did she have to explain herself to him!

But before she could stop herself.

Take a minute to calm down.

She was speaking again.

Something about the way he irritated her, always making her defend herself, always spurring her for a fight.

Her hands went to her hips without her permission.

"Look, I am an adult Booth. I see men. I go out with them; on occasion I sleep with them."

Oh, what did she say that for!

She sounded like an idiot!

Although the look on his face when she mentioned sex with other men was priceless.

"Hey, you know what? That's cool but you don't even know who this guy is that you're meeting."

He was so angry now. Acting like he hadn't been the one to bring it up, like he was no longer interested in hearing about it, like he was blaming her for getting a life.

What did he want from her! For her not to go?

It was only a date, with a smart, educated man who had a good job, how dare he act like she should have to ask his permission!

This was ridiculous.

She was a grown woman.

Trained to the highest levels in self defence.

She had worked in some of the most dangerous countries in the world!

He was making her mad now.

"I have trekked through Tibet avoiding the Chinese army. I think I can handle meeting someone for dinner."

"Fine, you know what? You have fun with Dick431 or whatever his handle is." He was actually taunting her. Leaning towards her in aggression. Eyes flaring. Like he was hurting.

Wait, was Booth jealous?

No. He couldn't be, but there was a gleam of something she could not name which burned in his eyes as he once again faced off with her.

"Yeah I will." She pared back. Biting down on her anger with all the strength she could muster.

"Good." He always had to have the last word.

Not this time.

"Thanks," the ha! was silent.

"Fine." And still he tried. Like a petulant child. Before stalking away from her. His hands in his pockets, head lowered like he was sulking.

But she would win.

"Good," she finished, with one last glance back to him, which he met broodingly from the corner he had retreated to, before picking up her Dictaphone once more and essentially ending their discussion for now with some more of the gruesome facts. "Victim is female, late teens to mid twenties, knife marks on the bone, evidence of deep cuts probably to open up the flesh, make it," she had to swallow before she could continue, "more appetizing for the dogs."

**000000**

She still wasn't really up for eating when she pulled her car into a space a few metres from Nolita's, but she was willing to let the temptation of good conversation distract her. The restaurant looked nice, ambient lighting, discreet tables, Italian cuisine; an excellent first date choice. Had good reviews online.

She had gone home, showered off the horrors of the day, added make-up, and a touch of perfume, redressed in a costume that Angela had deemed comfortable, but elegant and understated, and perfect for a first date.

She couldn't see David, but it was approaching time for their reservation and she could always wait inside for him.

As she reached the pavement her phone rang, "David, hi." She had to place her free hand over her ear to hear him better. "Yeah I'm here; well I guess I'm two doors down." There was no need for the babbling, but it happened. She didn't think she felt nervous.

He was running late and didn't want her to think she was stood up. Full of apologies.

Thoughtful, she liked that.

"No, I know the traffic on the beltway can be brutal."

He told her to wait inside for him.

"Okay. Bye." She flicked the phone closed, surprised when she felt it slip from her grasp.

There was a split second as she bent to catch it when she thought she heard a quiet rushing sound, before the window of the shop front beside her shattered into a million fragments and she hit the pavement, panting and stunned.

She was being shot at?

Another round of bullets raced by as she tumbled into self-defence mode, seeking shelter behind a parked car, as other windows shattered and the reverberating sound of bullets hitting concrete and steel filled the air.

Then she heard the screech of car tyres speeding away.

She remained hidden behind the car, knees pulled up to her chest, panting.

What the hell was happening?

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Taken from the events and transcript of episode 'Two Bodies in the Lab' season 1 ep 15.

**Author Notes:** I have recently fallen in love with this show. I'm currently only up to the second episode of season 2 so I have a long way to go (not complaining!) My guess is that this kind of story has been done before, but thank you for taking the time to try mine!

**Rating:** T - Mainly for description of crime scenes and the occasional mild bad word. Romance the rest of the way, I promise!

**Connected To You.**

By Rianne

Chapter Two.

She had been shot at!

She stayed in place, in the shelter of the car.

Her heart was still racing.

In the tight grip of her shaking fist she still grasped the phone, the reason she had stumbled.

Her clumsiness with the technology had saved her life!

She flicked it back open.

Hearing the distant approach of sirens.

The restaurant staff had obviously called the police.

She had another call to make.

Because he'd hear about it anyway.

"Booth," he answered on the first ring and she realised that she hadn't really thought about how she was going to approach explaining this to him.

Her silence was breathless.

"Oh, Bones, did he bore you already? I told you this online dating wasn't your thing."

"Seeley," She heard his breath catch. That had captured his attention.

She never used his given name.

"Did something happen? Did he try something? Bones, you're scaring me."

"No," she replied quietly, not really trusting her own voice. "Something happened on the way to the restaurant. Someone shot at me and I..."

He cut her off crying, "Someone shot at you!"

She could hear movement on his end, as if he was stumbling around, perhaps dressing.

"I'm okay, and the police are on their way, I..."

"I'm on my way." He sounded afraid, determined, panicked.

"No, I'll be fine, I'm not hurt. There is no need; I can give a statement to the police. The shooter was in a black car. I didn't manage to catch the registration plate. "

"I'm on my way." He ignored her protests, "Are you in a safe place? Are there others around?"

"Yes, there are people gathering from the restaurant." She murmured, managing to find her feet, almost surprised at the residual shake in her legs. "I took shelter behind a car."

"The restaurant is on K Street?"

She considered lying to him, but there was no point.

"Yes, but you really don't need to come here."

Her words were in vain though; she had already heard the heavy closing of his car door and the wheel spin as he left the curb.

"Are you talking and driving Booth?" She tried to infuse the humour, but it seemed to fall flat.

"Bones, you were shot at, be serious," He sounded helpless, unlike himself.

She didn't like it.

"Tell me everything, from the beginning. Leave nothing out, it could be important."

"There's not much to tell. I got to the restaurant. Left my car."

The police were arriving and she could see what must be the restaurant manager pointing the officers in her direction.

"David called. Said he was stuck in traffic and that I should wait inside the restaurant. Then I dropped my phone and there was shooting."

Her words were purposely light and flippant. But she was pacing as she spoke. Unable to remain still.

She could hear him swearing at the traffic as he drove.

She knew how he drove when he was in this type of mood. The slightest thing she said could cause a calamity if she wasn't careful.

"Look Booth," she said as a Police Officer approached her. "I have to talk to the police now."

"Put me on the phone to them," he told her.

"Booth, no," she was shaking her head as if he could see her. "I will be fine." She declared before ending the call.

She could almost imagine the noise he made when he realised she was gone.

She hoped the other drivers on the road would be safe.

Her conversation with the officer was calm by comparison to Booth's interrogation. He took notes as she spoke. She explained her credentials and that her job could often create enemies. She explained her date, suddenly realising that she hadn't called David to explain all this mess. He would still be stuck in traffic.

The officer asked if she had any one who could come and collect her, if there was anywhere she could stay for the night, just at the moment that Booth came charging towards her. He was waving his FBI badge at the officers as he tore his way through the recently erected yellow tape.

A mixture of emotions in his expression, his gaze never leaving her until he was right in front of her and could be reassured of her safety.

He barged past the officer, reaching out to touch her, fingers carefully lifting her arm and drawing her attention to the fact that a bullet had skimmed her, tearing a path through her jacket.

"I'm fine," she shrugged him off.

Uncertain about his attention in front of the officer and gathering crowd.

But at the pained look which registered in his eyes she felt a surge of regret, repeating, "I'm fine." Her tone softer.

The officer was watching their interactions with interest and quickly released her on the condition that Booth kept her in his sights.

It was only then that she realised that Booth hadn't even shown the man his ID.

The officer had obviously put two and two together and made five as he seemed to have assumed that Booth was the date she had been waiting for.

But before she could protest she was in Booth's car, on her way to her apartment, with only his promise that he would send someone to collect her car later.

She wouldn't let him in when they got there and the tense standoff lasted longer than she wanted it too.

He gave in eventually when she told him she would stay home and keep her phone with her at all times.

It was only five minutes after he had finally consented to leave that the boredom overtook her promise to him and the cab was arriving on her doorstep to transport her to the Lab.

If someone wanted to kill her over bones she was damn well going to find out why.

**000000**

The others hovered.

Their anxiousness annoying.

She was fine.

She assessed the girl from the crime scene.

"Need enlargements of the super orbital notch." She asked Zack, who jumped startled at the command in her voice.

"Have you examined the dogs' excrement?" she continued to Hodgins ignoring her grad student's discomfort.

"I'm doing the faecal floatation now." Hodgins confirmed. "I don't get to say that a lot."

"Check for fibres the FBI might have missed as well." She continued, unable to listen to anything the others were saying beyond the facts.

Usually their chatter was dismissible.

Tonight it irritated.

"You've already told him, twice." Angela was using her calming voice. The one she liked to use to diffuse arguments. "Are you sure you don't want a drink?" That was the voice she used to tempt her.

No she didn't want a drink; she wanted everyone to act like they normally did and to get on with some work!

"You know it wouldn't be difficult for someone to encode a secure data strip, implant it on an ID card with a correct digitally encoded authentication data and sneak in here." Zack's paranoia set Hodgins off.

"That is possible." Hodgins murmured, his mind beginning to whir.

This was not helping this poor girl, or her own patience.

"Are you two going to help or not?" She nearly shouted, taking a twinge of satisfaction in the fact that both men jumped.

Angela remained unfazed as ever. "You know Booth's pissed that you came here. He had more questions for you at the scene."

Her head snapped up.

That wasn't true.

Booth had escorted her home. He had asked all the questions already.

That meant only one thing.

He had been checking up on her and when he hadn't found her at home he had called the first person he knew who could confirm she was here; Angela. Who had inadvertently said that yes, Brennan was here, at the Lab, working. And when asked why he wanted to know Booth had probably made up some excuse like needing to ask her more questions.

But she didn't understand what his problem was; it was safe at the Lab. Secure and guarded. Despite the paranoid twins latest theories.

She gave them a glare and both Hodgins and Zack skulked away to their stations.

And Booth knowing she was here meant only one thing.

Booth was not only pissed, as Angela had mentioned, he was also very likely on his way to the Jeffersonian right now.

Great.

"He just doesn't want to come here because he has to park in the structure." She dismissed, knowing that she'd hear his footfalls soon enough. "I need her face as quickly as you can."

She made sure that her request was politer this time, but her words were still clipped, before she crossed to inspect Zack's progress on the cleaning of the bones.

There was little of good to be seen.

"Zach these bullet holes haven't been cleaned."

He spluttered, "I worked on them for hours, Dr. Brennan."

"Then that wasn't long enough was it?" she shouted, her temper finally unravelled beyond her control.

Zack jumped, and behind him even Hodgins looked stunned at her uncharacteristic outburst.

Tonight was not going well.

"I'm sorry but… You take a sinus probe, you put a little cotton swab on the end of it." She demonstrated as she spoke, finding it easier to slip back into the safe realm of teacher, but her motions were jerky and short and blurringly rapid. "You dip it in water and you dab it inside the wound until it's clean. The Sistine Chapel took thirteen years to clean properly."

She moved away, distancing herself from her colleagues as she tried to reign in the turbulence she felt.

This was not normal.

To feel this way.

Almost unhinged.

Exhausted.

Hungry, even.

She had been shot at of course, but she'd been shot at before.

She heard Zack murmur, "I didn't think we had that kind of time."

He sounded upset still, and a little afraid of her and she was just about to lift her face from the microscope and apologise when Booth's voice cut clear across the Lab.

"Bones! What the hell are you doing?"

Angela was right, he was pissed, hell he was more than pissed.

She had duped him.

She stared hard into the microscope at the slide, feigning disinterest in his arrival.

But her heart rate had picked up again.

There was a nervousness in her bones.

"Working. Why does everyone find that so odd?"

She was fine. What was everyone so weird about?

It was no wonder she was jumpy the way they were all treating her.

"Why? Oh, I don't know. Why?" He got louder and louder, the more emotional he got. It was a very good tell for his heart rate. "Because maybe an hour ago someone tried to kill you."

She fought not to roll her eyes. He was so dramatic.

Swiping his card angrily through the reader, stomping his way up the stairs.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to continue to work these cases." He finished. His determination to get her to stop clear as crystal in his voice.

"This is what I do Booth." She told him, finally lifting her face from the microscope.

She was somehow able to not falter at the expression on his face.

Aware at closer proximity of the small creased around his eyes, which showed his distress, and a stab of something akin to guilt moved inside her.

He was worried about her.

She didn't know how to deal with that.

"Alright look, whoever killed these victims wants to make sure you don't finish your investigation."

He was attempting to change tactics now.

To coerce and charm her into submission. His dark eyes fixing her with a beseeching gaze.

She couldn't give in to that.

It would mean giving up on all she stood for in her quest to find victims truths.

"Hundreds of criminals would like me to stop what I do. Are you suggesting that I just give up my career?"

But she could fight him and his big emotions with rationality every step of the way.

"Just be reasonable."

She was being reasonable.

"Fine. Logic suggests that the shooter is involved in one of these cases so I should find out who killed them before he tries to shoot me again."

She stood as she spoke, matching him, in height and determination.

His jaw line was tight. He kept clenching his fists.

Like he was having to work so hard to control his temper with her as she purposely brushed past him to the computer.

"Did Forensics recover the bullets that were meant for me?" She asked, her voice unrealistically calm.

"Ballistics is running tests on them right now." He confirmed.

"And have you picked up the suspect in the young woman's murder?"

She heard the inflection of hardness in his voice that appeared at the mention of that man. He had put both hands in his pockets, clearly as an act of restraint.

"Hollings, I don't want to spook him until we have enough evidence but I've got guys watching him."

Of course he had. It wouldn't surprise her if he had some of his 'guys' watching her too.

"Did you get a list of missing women, aged eighteen to twenty…?" she asked, wracking her brain to make sure no piece of the evidentiary puzzle was missing.

"Eighteen to twenty-five, yes." He cut her off. "They are on your server. Bones, everyone is doing their job."

This was the only way she could handle this, these feelings that rioted inside her.

Anger, frustration, hurt, nervousness, fear that she might just break down and sob in the middle of her Lab if she slowed down even for a moment.

Everyone looked and sounded tired. And Tense.

Everyone was tense.

Was that her fault?

It seemed very likely it was.

"Okay," Angela said softly, walking up to the monitor.

She watched Angela wave Booth off with some kind of signal, and she wondered what her friend was thinking about her behaviour right now. She was acting like she was treading on broken glass around her, or egg shells, or whatever the saying was supposed to be.

"I will see if any of them match the victim." Angela appeased, pulling up a chair.

"Well what about the Romano family? Hodgins says they were feuding with the Cugini's." She asked, knowing that Hodgins' somehow knew a lot of theories about Mobsters.

She leant over Angela's shoulder watching her actions like a hawk.

"Kenton is pulling all the files on the case on all mob activity six years ago."

His tone changed, "Bones, there is one other person we have to look at, your date."

That got her attention and beside her she felt Angela's head turn quickly in Booth's direction.

She pretended it hadn't got to her. Continued examining the evidence on the screen.

It was a little unfair to call David her date, she hadn't even managed to meet him yet.

Or call him and let him know what had happened, she suddenly realised.

"Well I spoke with him, Booth." She turned her face to him, trying to show him how much of a waste of time this was going to be, in her expression and her tone. "He was in his car in traffic and why would he want to kill me?" She found herself asking the obvious question.

"Why would somebody want to kill your victim over there?" Came Booth's reply.

Damn him.

That was too logical for her to refute.

Angela picked right up on that too, and she shared a look with her.

One that admitted defeat.

"Look Bones, I know it's hard for you to admit you're wrong about something but I really don't care about your feelings right now, I'm more concerned with your life. So they're bringing your date in for interrogation, grab your coat."

He was treading a fine line now, actually bringing in her date for questioning had to cross that line, and his ordering her around again, that was way over the line.

"I'm working." She growled out. And still stating the obvious. She was glaring at the screen now.

"Bones!" His cry was one of unyielding frustration. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until I find out who is trying to kill you."

He sounded so earnest.

But the hand on his hip said no messing.

She looked to Angela for help and saw that her friend had definitely sided with Booth.

Great.

This was going to be the perfect story to tell people about how she met David.

**To Be Continued... **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Taken from the events and transcript of episode 'Two Bodies in the Lab' season 1 ep 15.

**Author Notes:** I have recently fallen in love with this show. I'm currently only up to the second episode of season 2 so I have a long way to go (not complaining!) My guess is that this kind of story has been done before, but thank you for taking the time to try mine!

I did a little anthropological research for the 'interrogation' scene, trying to put Bones' training into her views on the way Booth and David interact. I was hoping for something along the lines of the way animals fight for a mate, but more Brennan in style. Instead I read a lot more than I expected about remote tribal life and was pretty horrified by some of the things. Although most of it wasn't right for this story, I was too sickened to use any of it. Let me just say that in some places, jealousy causes more than just tension and heartbreak.

**Thanks**: Go out to SnowyBones for the reviews. Thanks too for the follows and favourite listings and to all those I can see having a look (and hopefully reading!). I'm feeling very new to these characters in every sense so please let me know how I'm doing!

**Rating:** T - Mainly for description of crime scenes and the occasional mild bad word. Romance the rest of the way, I promise!

**Connected To You.**

_By Rianne_

Chapter Three

She followed Booth with arms stiffly crossed, out of the Jeffersonian and into his SUV.

Her frown was as ridged as her arms.

At the last minute she had realised that in taking off her Lab coat she was not only freezing, but also revealing the slash in her jacket that the bullet had made.

She liked this jacket too. Another item of clothing lost to the job.

It was still dark out and if she was honest she could not be completely sure that the shivers she felt weren't some delayed residual reaction to the shooting.

She didn't respond, when Booth reached over and turned a dial on the dash, turning up the heat.

She was too annoyed to thank him.

And too annoyed that he had noticed her discomfort.

Nothing was secret with him.

Nothing private.

He noticed everything.

Instead she glared out of the window as if being in the vehicle with him was the very last place on earth she wanted to be.

When instead the last place was probably in an interrogation room with an irate Booth the first time she met a potential date, she realised a few moments later when she was escorted inside the FBI headquarters and towards the back of the building.

The very last place on earth she wanted to be.

She had dated enough to know that all the standard awkward first moments of a date should be as private as they could be. No one wanted to be observed in those initial nervous, niggling, self-conscious moments. Especially by someone who was a colleague and maybe a friend.

Friends and colleagues were supposed to be introduced to people you were dating after you had started seeing them! When you had taken the time to get to know said date and were able to give both parties notice and time to prepare.

Although Booth had never really shown any courtesy in that area of their lives.

The remembrance of the night she met Tessa came to her as the perfect example.

She had arrived at Booth's apartment with a file, and if she admitted it to herself a little bit of encouragement from Angela. She could still recall the surprise she felt when her friend had intoned, _I think he likes you._ She could also remember the uncertainty of being sideswiped into fumbling, by the fact Booth opened the door barely dressed, bare chested, with his hair dishevelled, and was closely followed by his tall, leggy Blonde girlfriend, who was dressed only in expensive underwear and one of Booth's shirts! A girlfriend he had never actually mentioned in all the weeks that they had been working together!

She had managed to cover her surprise somehow.

And to stamp down on something that had fluttered up inside her and had felt suspiciously like hurt.

She had made a point of asking him about Tessa later, admitting that she was wrong to have assumed that due to his consuming passion for his job, that he would have no time left in his life to be in a relationship, and therefore he would be single. He had not been impressed to hear her theory that his alpha male attributes were usually associated with a solitary existence.

It had occurred to her later, in a way that she could not deny, especially after Angela's reaction to her retelling of the story, that something was amiss. In an odd way the encounter had started her considering the amount of importance she held in Booth's life. As she knew nothing about his girlfriend, but the girlfriend had heard a lot about a Dr. Temperance Brennan.

That had made her feel smug for a moment, but only a moment. Then it brought confusion.

And a little bit of anger too as she remembered him saying, '_Temperance, partners they, share things, builds trust.'_

Clearly he had double standards.

As they approached the interrogation room door she straightened, realigning herself in the present.

It was her fault that David was in this position, and she felt the need to put a good face on it. The David she had conversed with online and on the phone had sounded so very nice and he deserved her apologies, her respect and her best self.

She secured her smile in place, feeling awkward, as Booth opened the door to the interrogation room for her.

He was handsome.

That was her first thought; which was a good thought.

He stood to greet her.

Tall. That was good too.

Called her Temperance.

And smiled.

Good firm handshake.

Warm fingers.

Looked her in the eye.

"Someone shot at you?" David murmured, real concern in his voice and his expression.

Looking at her like he could not believe something like this happened in her life.

She hoped that wasn't going to be a negative mark against her.

"Yeah," she murmured as casually as she could.

"Oh my God!"

She reached out as he spoke, and self-consciously brushed against the hole in her jacket that had caused him to stare.

Just as Booth had done, the actions eerily similar, but David wasn't looking at her with eyes filled with guilt.

Booth blamed himself every time something unfortunate happened to her and really, statistically, that could not possibly be correct.

What was she doing comparing David to Booth?

She gave herself a small shake.

Angela would have a field day.

"I know." She admitted, keeping her eyes on David, it helped to pretend that Booth wasn't in the room.

"What can I do?" David asked her, with genuine sincerity.

There was nothing she could think of, but it was very kind of him to offer.

He had kind eyes.

The dark shadow of Booth's charcoal suit broke into her view of them as Booth purposely stepped in front of her.

Literally, stepped in front of her, blocking her from David.

"Excuse me, I'm special Agent Seeley Booth. I'll be asking the questions. You want to sit down?"

Oh, Booth!

She knew her partner was only worried about her safety, but she had serious doubts that this was necessary. Especially the tone he was currently using.

"Sure, I mean I didn't see anything." David said, taking Booth seriously enough, probably out of respect for her. She did not like that David was now forced to look up at Booth as the FBI Agent loomed over him, but the banker took it in his stride. "When I got to the restaurant I saw the cops but I had no idea that it had to do with you."

Guilt made her press her lips into a line.

She would need to apologise for not calling David sooner.

If Booth would ever let her get near David again.

"You're an investment banker, good looking guy but yet you find your women online."

Whoah! Hold on a minute!

That was another line crossed. Booth's third tonight.

"Excuse me?" David spluttered.

"Can't you find any women at work?" Booth persevered, acting like he was ferreting out actual clues.

What had David and inner office relationships got to do with someone shooting at her?

Booth couldn't possibly be following the avenue of a jealous lover/ex-lover of David's having intentions to shoot her, not when they were working a murder linked to the Mob!

She pondered the theory bemused, knowing from Angela and her own experience with Michael that many relationships did begin at work, her friend's favourite ploy to encourage her in a pursuit of Booth was along those lines, but she also knew that a lot of people wanted to look in other places for companionship. For someone who did not know everything about them already, who would not ruin professional standing over a few misbegotten moments.

But before she could challenge Booth's question David spoke up, looking at her intently, "Well she was online too and she's a great looking doctor."

It seemed David could hold his own.

Impressive.

"Your picture doesn't do you justice by the way."

That brought a blush of heat to her cheeks and a ghost of a smile to her lips and deserved a return of compliment.

"Thank you. Yours either. The resolution must not be very good online."

She moved around the table, and ignoring the seething Booth took a seat beside David.

She had a sneaking suspicion that it would rile Booth no end, and look like she was taking David's side, but it felt right to be sitting beside the calm and rational grownup in the room.

Someone who didn't purposely try her patience.

"Bones!" Booth growled out, and she knew he was annoyed at her choice of seat and not at her diversion from the questioning at hand.

"Oh he's a Luddite." She told David, again attempting to soften Booth's approach and perhaps rile him at the same time.

"Hey!" Booth cried.

Gotcha!

She turned to Booth, "That's someone who's afraid of technology." She told him in her most un-condescending tone.

"I know what a Luddite is." Booth growled out. Aiming his words and his glare at David.

"So you're saying that you were stuck in traffic?" Booth asked him with a growing tendency towards disbelief in his voice.

"What? You think I shot at her?" David's calm reserve of patience was growing low and exasperation was tightening his features.

Very nice features actually, a touch of Roman, strong jaw, and defined nose, high forehead.

"I'm a fundraiser for the Brady campaign against gun violence." David told Booth, annoyance at this interrogation clearly beginning to get to him.

She knew that about him, his charity work, she should have told Booth that, but the thought had not come to her.

"Do you think I tried to kill you?"

David's attention had swung back to her and his incredulous expression made a guilty disturbance churn inside her.

"He has to do this." She heard herself say.

Standing up for Booth, even when he was behaving like this.

But she knew she wasn't going soft, she knew just how scared Booth had been as he had rushed to the scene of the shooting.

The expression of fear in his eyes clear in her mind even now and still flickering there every so often when he looked at her, despite the fight they were currently embroiled in.

That did not excuse the fact that she had seen him interrogate hardened criminals with more respect than he was currently showing David.

"Yeah I have to do this," Booth barrelled forward, almost sounding like he was trying to convince himself, "so what time did you leave work?"

"About six forty-five." David told him.

"Any witnesses?" Booth pressed on.

"Yeah, yeah, my assistant; Margaret Jenson, the client I was with, the valet that saw me pull out of the parking garage." David reeled off, "I mean unless they are all suspects too."

There was a flicker of temper in David's words towards the end, and she saw Booth catch it too.

"We'll be talking to everyone." Booth replied.

She had to wonder about that. It was borderline wasteful to use FBI resources to question those people.

"Well did you check the traffic report?" David's brows raised in question. "It was a mess."

The Beltway was always a mess.

"He did." She told David as softly as she could.

Before realising that she didn't know that for sure.

She turned to Booth, "You did."

"Do I have to get an attorney?"

The residual surprise in David's voice had hardened into a tone she imagined he used to broker banking deals.

"Just stay close in case we need you for anything else." Booth damn near threatened. Brows dipping to stress his insistence.

Oh, she'd be lucky if she ever heard from this guy again.

If she hadn't been trying to keep a good face through all this she would have been head in hands at this train wreck.

"Yeah, sure. I mean anything I can do to help." David told Booth, which made her smile as he stood; clearly agreeing that now was the time for him to be leaving.

She stood too, with the intention of grabbing just a few minutes of privacy with him and the chance to apologise, but they had barely made it a few steps before Booth cut in with, "So this whole online thing, how long does it last, because if it's just a way to," he whistled "hook up. I gotta tell you. It's pretty low."

She wanted to kick him, instead she glared so hard he should have burst into flames.

That was it, the very last straw!

How many times was she going to let him cross the line like that and get away with it?!

"You know one of my partners met his wife online."

David, the voice of reason shattered the tension and brought calm with just a few words.

"You're kidding?" She asked him, masking the uncertainty she felt in realising that marriage might be what David was looking for, with a voice she didn't quite recognise as her own, clearly choosing to side with rational this time.

She ignored Booth with her entire being.

"No, they've been married for five years." David confirmed.

"Doesn't mean it's not creepy." Booth jibed.

Both she and David turned to Booth in disbelief.

He was leaning against the edge of the table. Arms crossed in a huff.

But she did not take the bait.

"Okay, I'm sorry." David said on an exasperated sigh, waving his hands at the sudden tension between her and Booth.

"Did I miss something? 'Cause I don't want to get in the way between you two…"

"What?" she said in guilty surprise.

At the exact same moment Booth declared, "Oh no," and shook his head so vehemently she should really be offended.

"No," she reinforced and Booth turned away.

She could hear him murmuring, "No, God!"

"Then, maybe we could reschedule dinner?" David asked her, a little more hesitant, but ploughing ahead.

"No!" came the surprise, and possible slip of the tongue from Booth.

Just as she replied in the affirmative.

"Sure."

"Great," David confirmed.

He was smiling again and she found she was actually looking forward to going on a date with him, especially considering he was still interested in her, even after the last few minutes.

No one had interrogated a date of hers before.

It was an experience she hoped not to repeat.

"You know I think someone needs this room." Booth interrupted, taking hold of David's arm and guiding him towards the exit.

"Yeah, sure," David went with the flow, but his eyes still smiled at her over Booth's shoulder.

"Well, I'll email you," David told her, as Booth tried his best to walk the guy backwards out of the room. "Stay safe."

See, that was sweet.

He was concerned for her, rather than controlling.

"She will stay safe." Booth put in.

She knew what that meant.

Booth would be following her around the Lab again.

She watched David walk away over Booth's shoulder.

"He's nice, don't you think?"

She was asking the wrong person. Where was Angela when she needed her?

"Yeah, he's nice..." Booth's version of nice did not sound like hers, and when he turned on her she realised that it wasn't,

"...as a suspect." He finished.

She could not believe he was still going at this!

She should kick his ass for his behaviour back there.

But now was not the time for violence.

"What?" He asked her.

But she was already working on her way to get him back and she too had a will of iron and enough stubbornness to win.

She knew something now that she hadn't before this whole disaster.

She knew that her dating was a sore spot with Booth.

She had no clue as to why.

Brotherly protection, frustration at his own break–up with Tessa, maybe even a touch of jealousy?

But it was definitely a weakness she could use to get him back.

"Hello?" he intoned, waving a palm across her vision.

She just gleefully ignored him, watching David walk away with what she hoped was a dazed, girlie sort of expression.

It riled him so much he put his arm up to hide David from her view.

Ha!

The smallest of ideas were sometimes the best!

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
